The call took nearly an hour to put through, though most of that time seemed to be spent trying to locate the person who was to receive it. When Gunther Rafael finally did take the call, the image which formed before Phule was less than encouraging.

What the holo-projection showed was an acned youth who didn't look old enough to be admitted to a casino, much less own one.

"Mr. Phule?" the image said, peering at a point slightly to the left of where Phule was standing. "Hi. Gunther Rafael here. Gee, I'm really glad you called ... I've been waiting to hear from you for a long time now."

"You have?" Phule was a little taken aback at this.

"Well, yeah. I sent in my request for your services nearly a month ago, and the Space Legion accepted it almost immediately."

From the corner of his eye, Phule saw Beeker lean back in his chair and stare at the ceiling, and knew the time lapse between the acceptance of the contract and their notification of its existence wasn't lost on the butler.

"I see," the Legionnaire said. "Well, I only received the assignment recently, and was hoping you could provide me with a few more details so I could brief my troops before we arrive."

The youth frowned. "It's not that hard to understand. I thought I made it clear in my request. I want you to keep those scumbags from taking over my casino, and I don't care if you have to gun every one of them down to do it!"

Beeker was suddenly sitting upright in his chair, staring at the image in disbelief. Of course, the way the cameras were situated, the only image being sent was that of Phule, who held up his hand in a gesture of restraint.

"Mr. Rafael ..." he began.

"Please, make it 'Gunther,'" the youth interrupted with a quick smile.

"Very well"-Phule nodded-"and in return, please call me 'Jester.'"

"Jester? But aren't you-"

"It's my name within the Legion," Phule explained with a shrug. "Anyway ... Gunther ... the information channels within the Legion can be slow and often distort the details of the original request, which is why I'm calling you directly. To be sure we're both on the same wavelength, could you briefly explain the assignment to me ... as if I were hearing it for the first time?"

"Well, since Dad died, I've been liquidating his holdings so I could finally try to make my dream come true: to own and run the biggest and best hotel and casino on Lorelei-"

"Have you ever owned or worked in a casino before?" Phule interrupted.

"No ... but I know it can be done! I can offer better odds than any other casino on Lorelei and still turn a profit. I worked it all out on paper in college. What's more, I can attract the bulk of the tourists if they know they're getting the best odds and that the games are straight." Gunther's eyes were alight with enthusiasm.

Phule, on the other hand, was unmoved.

"But you've never actually worked in a casino before."

"No, I haven't," the youth admitted with a grimace. "That's why I've hired an experienced casino manager, Huey Martin, to run things for me while I learn."

"I see," the Legionnaire said, making a mental note of the name. "Go on."

"Well, a while back I learned that there was a chance that criminals were going to try to take over my place once it was open, and I didn't know what to do. The police here on Lorelei may be great for keeping the muggers away from the tourists, but they aren't up to handling anything like this! Then I saw the reports on how you managed to stop an alien invasion with just a handful of troops, and figured if you could do that, you should be able to stop common crooks from taking over my casino."

"So that's the assignment," Phule said slowly, steadfastly ignoring Beeker, who was now slumped in his chair, his arms folded, one hand over his eyes. "To guard your casino against a hostile takeover by a gang of criminals."

"Sure." Gunther beamed. "I figure with your uniformed troops standing in full view, the customers will feel safer, and those scumbags will think twice before they try any rough stuff."

"All right ... there are several things I'm going to need, Gunther, and I'd appreciate it if you could transmit them to me here on Haskin's Planet as soon as possible. I'm going to want copies of the floor plans and blueprints for the hotel-particularly the casino area-showing electrical and security systems. I also want to see copies of all your personnel files on all employees, starting with Huey Martin's, and ... did you say you weren't open yet?"

"Well, parts of the casino are open, but I'm doing a lot of remodeling. There's going to be a big grand opening to launch the new operation."

"We can't leave our current assignment until our replacements arrive," Phule said, almost to himself, "then there's time in transit, and ... Gunther, can you hold your grand opening until at least a week after we arrive?"

"I ... guess so. Why do you want my personnel records?"

"Let's just say I like to have some idea of who's at our backs while we're standing guard ... Oh, and speaking of personnel, have you made arrangements for housing my troops?"

"Sure. I was going to have them stay at one of the small hotels down the Strip."

"Cancel that. I want them to have rooms at the Fat Chance. A hundred rooms and a penthouse."

"But rooms at the Fat Chance go for-"

"They're supposed to be guarding your hotel and casino," Phule said pointedly. "They can't do that if they're at another location when trouble hits, can they?"

"I ... guess not. All right. I suppose with over a thousand rooms I can spare a hundred. Is that all?"

Phule nodded. "For the moment. I'll probably be getting back to you soon with some additional requests, but that'll give me a starting point."

"Okay. I'll tell you, Mr. Jester, I'll sleep a lot easier now knowing you're on the job."

The youth's image faded as the connection was broken.

For several moments, Phule and Beeker stared silently at the place in the room it had occupied. Finally the commander cleared his throat.

"How in the world did someone that ignorant and naive get to be a multimillionaire?"

"Not to belabor the obvious, sir," Becker said softly, "I believe he inherited it."

Phule wrinkled his nose in disgust. While he had borrowed seed money from his munitions-baron father, he had long since paid it all back, with interest, and considered his wealth to be self-made. As such, he had little tolerance for those who inherited their wealth, and none at all for those who were foolish with what money they had.

"Oh well," he said, "it takes all kinds ... I guess. At least now we know what we're up against with this assignment."

"A know-nothing kid trying to run a casino on book theories and hired expertise," Beeker recited grimly. "Not exactly the cushy guard duty in paradise that General Blitzkrieg was trying to paint it as, is it, sir? Oh yes ... and let us not forget the possibility of an attempted criminal takeover."

"You know, that's the part that bothers me the most." The commander scowled. "Check me on this, Beek ... you stay more abreast of current events than I do. These days, when crime, organized or otherwise, wants to take over a business, do they do it with guns blazing?"

The butler made a soft but rude noise before answering.

"Not to my knowledge, sir. It's my understanding that the usual tactic is to force them into financial difficulty, then buy them out cheap-or, at least, a controlling interest."

Phule nodded. "That's what I thought. More like a hostile stock takeover. Well, I've handled those before."

The butler looked at him sharply.

"If I might point out, sir, the methods the criminal element utilizes to put financial pressure on a business are well outside civilized law. I would suggest it would be prudent not to underestimate your opponents."